Confessions of a Wedding Planner

1: THE BOTHERSOME BRIDE

“We’ll call it Wedding Planner Blues,” said the man in the biker’s jacket.

You’d have said the idea had just struck him that very moment. My guess was he’d been working on it for at least forty-eight hours. You could see he was really pleased with himself for coming up with it.

But Cindy was impressed. At least, she laughed girlishly. I didn’t.

Bikerman’s companion, all open-faced sweetness and freckles, gasped admiringly. I suspected she’d rehearsed it. The two of them were doing the Good Cop, Bad Cop thing. Only they weren’t cops. They were journalists.

Cindy had invited them to tea after their editor called her to suggest an interview. She didn’t tell me until she’d done it. I’d read previous What’s the Point of . . . columns in the Sunday Smart Arse and I was appalled. One journo prosecuted and one defended, at least in theory. I’d as soon have invited a couple of vampires over the threshold.

Sorry, but only subscribers to our newsletters have access to the full story. If you'd like to read on, please sign up to receive our newsletter. You can do so by clicking on this link http://libertabooks.com/newsletter/ or you can use the form at the top of the sidebar (mobile users, please scroll down to find the form)

Once your subscription has been confirmed, you'll be able to access all the subscriber-only materials we publish.

We really hope you'll choose to join the buzz in the Libertà hive. You'd be very welcome.